


Moment of Doubt

by creativityandcoffee



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Fillory (The Magicians), M/M, because I'll never get tired of thinking about them in that timeline, set in the mosaic timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 16:36:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20028943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creativityandcoffee/pseuds/creativityandcoffee
Summary: Quentin has a moment of doubt; Eliot helps him through it.





	Moment of Doubt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MermaidMarie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MermaidMarie/gifts).

> Dedicated to MermaidMarie, because everything she writes is golden, and I can't wait to keep reading her Queliot Hadestown AU (which is titled "It's a Sad Song"). Hope you all enjoy!

Quentin got out of bed as quietly as he could, slipping his jacket on over his pajamas and shuffling into his slippers without a sound. He turned in the doorway to glance fondly at Eliot—who (he was pleased to see) was still asleep—before making his way to the front door and stepping outside.

He ignored the various chairs they’d laid out on the lawn, choosing instead to sit in a more familiar spot: right in the center of the Mosaic, with the tiles spread out all around him. That afternoon, they’d successfully completed yet another pattern—and found out, unsurprisingly, that it still wasn’t the right one. The evidence of their half-finished attempt to re-stack the tiles lay before Quentin’s eyes. All of the blues had been taken up, but most of the greens remained where they’d last been laid; all the other colors were sorted to varying degrees.

Quentin breathed in deeply, enjoying the way the crisp night air stung, just slightly, as it filled up his lungs. It wasn’t cold enough yet for him to see his breath when he exhaled, but it would be soon. He was now familiar with the seasonal patterns of Fillory, and he could already tell that the coming winter threatened to be the coldest one yet.

Quentin would have to make Teddy a warmer coat. The one he had right now wouldn’t do, and it was already almost too small for him.

Who knew that children could grow so fast?

With all of his worries clamoring about in his mind, Quentin soon became lost in his own thoughts. A few minutes later, he was dragged back to reality by the feeling of a steady, familiar hand alighting upon his shoulder.

“Mind if I join you?”

“El, you should be sleeping,” Quentin said, trying to sound stern. But all it took was one look into Eliot’s eyes for him to give in. After a moment, he beckoned Eliot towards him, and Eliot sat down.

“I could say the same thing to you, Coldwater,” Eliot said, leaning against Quentin and wrapping his arm around the other man. Quentin unconsciously curled into the embrace and, without thinking about it, leaned his head upon Eliot’s shoulder. When Eliot started to move his hand up and down along Quentin’s back—as he had done so many times before—Quentin relaxed even more, and let his eyes slide shut.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Quentin murmured, shifting slightly as he did. Eliot hummed in reply, a low, warm sound that Quentin could feel reverberating in his own chest.

“You’ve been having a lot of trouble sleeping lately, love,” Eliot replied, his voice softer than before. Quentin smiled to himself when he heard the term of endearment, which only got used for special occasions and conversations.

He was “love” on Teddy’s birthday, and on their anniversary; he was “love” on the first day of spring, and on the hottest nights of summer; and he was “love” whenever Eliot was worried about him, and wanted to say it as sweetly as possible.

When had they first started to grow so close to each other? The years that had passed before he and Eliot were bound in love seemed lifetimes away.

“It’s true—I haven’t been sleeping well,” Quentin breathed, the admission lifting some small weight he hadn’t even noticed off of his shoulders. For the past week or so, he hadn’t really been sleeping at all; he’d spend all night listening to Eliot’s breathing, and letting his mind wander wherever it went. He had managed to sleep for an hour or two some days, here and there, but... it was never the amount of sleep that he needed.

Eliot ran gentle fingers through Quentin's hair, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Quentin felt his cheeks flush at the gesture.

They sat there for some time, gazing out upon a nighttime sky that had become well-known to them both. They’d made up their own constellations, back in their first years here: there was Trident and Crown; Angel and Devil; Julia and Margo—which shined brightest of all—and so many more, some of which were forgotten, lost to the passage of time.

“It’s been ten years, El,” Quentin said, in a voice that was small and unsure. “We’ve lost Arielle, and Teddy’s growing up, and we’re still nowhere near figuring out the puzzle we came here to solve. I love my life here—and I love you, of course—but I’m starting to worry we’ll never find the answer. I’m starting to think that we’ll fail.”

Quentin heard Eliot take a deep breath beside him, felt the heavy rise and fall of Eliot’s chest.

“If I said I never have my own doubts, sometimes, I’d by lying,” Eliot confessed, his words wavering slightly. To anyone else, his voice would sound perfectly calm; but after all this time, Quentin could notice even the smallest details of the other man’s tone.

Quentin settled his head more comfortably upon Eliot’s shoulder, waiting for whatever would come next.

“But you know what helps me push those doubts aside?” Eliot asked, letting the question hang in the air.

“The fact that I’m doing this with _you_.”

Quentin lifted his head off of Eliot’s shoulder and stared softly at the other man, a storm of feeling rising up inside his chest. Eliot turned towards him and looked into his eyes, with a gaze that seemed to understand everything Quentin would say, if he could only find the words.

“With you by my side, Q, I can do anything. Together, we’re invincible. And if anyone is going to find the fucking beauty of all life, then it’s going to be you and me,” Eliot said, his words achingly sincere. He reached up to caress Quentin’s cheek for a moment, before moving his fingers to rest on Quentin’s neck and pulling Q into a kiss.

The moon shone down brightly upon them, its silver light spilling out over their home; and for one long moment, the fall winds fell still, and you could have believed it was summer.

Now, Quentin no longer feared the winter, and no longer dreaded to face this quest. Because he believed what Eliot had said: that with El by his side, he could do anything; that together, they were invincible; and that if anyone could find the beauty of all life, it was him and the man he loved.

As it turns out—though neither of them could know it then—the beauty of all life consists of sitting in the dark, staring up at the stars, and knowing, even if it’s just for a moment, that love and hope lie right within reach.


End file.
